


It's Alright

by sallyamongpoison



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Dissociation, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, public kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 11:15:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6982444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sallyamongpoison/pseuds/sallyamongpoison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Cullen has a bit of a panic attack in the training yard and Samson helps him through it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Alright

Too much. It was all too much. It was too loud and too close and too many people. He could smell fire, hear people mumbling and murmuring and shouting, and it made his heart start to race. It was too much. Everything was too much. Being alone was too much, being around people was too much.

It was like he was being whispered to again. He could hear the hissing in his ear, threatening him and putting suggestions in his head, even when no one was around. No matter where he was, that voice was always there. Always. It would always know his heart and mind, he knew that, and it seemed like when he was in a crowd that he saw the faces hiding behind the others in the white space.

Cullen’s breathing picked up, and his heart started to beat so fast and so hard that it hurt. His knees turned to water, and he felt himself falling. Always falling. His vision blurred and the lines of other Templars swirled in and out. Again. It was taking him again. It would take him and this time it wouldn’t let him go.

“Cullen,” a voice said to him. It was rough, but not sharp, and more of a question than an address.

He shook his head and gloved hands lifted to cup over his ears as he sank to his knees, “No,” Cullen whispered, “no, not again. Please, Maker, no. Please.”

Then a hand on the back of his neck. He wouldn’t have felt it if it was on his back, not through his armor, but he could feel it on his neck. Maker help him, but Cullen imagined long fingers that ended in claws and dead eyes looking down at him as he fell apart. If he opened his eyes he’d see it standing there: wanting him, waiting for him, expecting him to give in. It always wanted him to give in.

“Cullen!”

“No!” he shouted and curled in on himself as best he could in his armor and robes, “leave me! I won’t do it!”

“Damn it, Rutherford!” the voice breathed and Cullen felt warm hands on his face. Not cold, dead ones. Warm. Alive. Familiar. They were rough and thin, slightly shaking, but familiar. Cullen knew them. He knew them from nights that he’d woken from the same nightmare over and over again. He’d felt them run through his hair to calm him down. He’d felt them on his back to help ease his shaking.

Samson.

“Raleigh?” Cullen asked, and slowly opened his eyes. He half expected to see the demon standing there, standing there and laughing for having tricked him using Samson’s voice. But no. It wasn’t. Samson. Just Samson standing there and looking down at him with a concerned face.

“Come on,” Samson prompted him, and reached down to get Cullen back on his feet. He lifted his right arm, slung it across his shoulders, and Cullen leaned against that frame as his full weight his shaking legs. “We need to get out of here before Meredith-”

“Knight-Captain?”

Fuck. Cullen squeezed his eyes shut and fought the urge to bury his face in Samson’s neck. Meredith. She’d seen him. She’d seen him fall apart out of nowhere, out in the training yards, just like she’d seen him fall apart way too many times. Not as many times as Samson, but too many times. She was starting to doubt him, he knew that. Her eyes went narrow and tight when she looked at him now, and he knew that she was questioning his abilities.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, and folded her arms as she looked at the two Templars before her.

Samson drew himself up a bit taller and cast a glance at how Cullen was practically hanging off him, “He’s alright, Knight-Commander,” he stated, “just a…” He faltered under her harsh glare, but didn’t stand down. Instead he kept both himself and Cullen upright. “A bit dizzy, ma’am. A bit of water and he’ll be alright.”

Meredith’s gaze didn’t lift, didn’t move from them, but Cullen lifted his head and looked out at her from under the now throbbing headache that made the edges of his vision swim black. It felt like he wasn’t even in his own body, and if he couldn’t feel Samson holding him up he was reasonably sure he wouldn’t even know if he was conscious. That touch, separated by armor and robes, kept him grounded.

“Is that true, Knight-Captain?” she asked with a cocked eyebrow.

Cullen nodded, “Yes,” he answered, “ma’am.” It was more of a breath than an answer. Not strong. He was supposed to be strong and he wasn’t strong.

“Come on,” Samson soothed to Cullen. His voice was warm and gentle, just for Cullen, and he gave Meredith a quick salute before he pulled Cullen off toward the barracks. As they walked, once they were away from the others Samson turned and buried his nose in Cullen’s curls, “it’s alright. You’ll be alright.”

“I heard it again,” Cullen muttered, “it was coming for me.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Samson told him, “you just…one of those waking nightmares. You’re too tired.”

“I heard it.”

“I know you did,” Samson replied as he settled them on a bench and cupped Cullen’s face. He’d pulled his gloves off before he’d touched him that first time, and like before those hands were warm and so very much alive. “But you’re safe here, alright?” he went on, “you know you are.”

He shook his head, “It’ll find me. It’ll take me.” Cullen’s breathing was picking up again, and Samson took a breath as he raked his fingers through those curls again and ran long fingers down over his neck and behind his ears. It was supposed to be soothing, and it was, and Cullen fought hard to focus on it so it might calm his heartbeat.

“Not so long as I’m here,” Samson told him, “I promise.”

There was a long pause, filled only with the sounds of their breathing and the quieted shouts from the training yard, but Cullen did finally relax a little. Even under the armor it was clear that his locked up muscles let go a little, and he sank in against Samson’s chest with his face buried in the man’s neck.

“Raleigh?”

“Right here.”

“Thank you,” Cullen murmured, “I…I shouldn’t be like this.”

Samson scoffed for that, “Maker help you,” and wrapped his arms around Cullen as best he could, “your bloody sense of duty is going to be the death of me.”

“Of you?”

He nodded and pressed a kiss to the top of Cullen’s head, “for worrying about you, you know.”

One of Cullen’s hands lifted to tangle in Samson’s robe, and he held it tightly before he looked up at him, “You shouldn’t have to.”

“But I do,” Samson told him, and cupped one hand around Cullen’s cheek, “so no arguing.”

“Raleigh..”

Samson leaned down and pressed their lips together. It was nothing but a quick peck, but safe to do where they sat for now, and Samson just pet Cullen’s cheek, “It’s alright,” he soothed again, “I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on tumblr! @sallyamongpoison


End file.
